Antiheroine: Shooting Canon
by vkerinav
Summary: Sucked into a inter-dimensional space-time quantum plot devi- um, rift- Antiheroine's Kara Shepard is inexplicably dropped into canon Mass Effect 2/3 situations. Watch as she reacts, badly. For those of us who wanted to select dialogue option number four. Ep. 6 features the ME Trio of Neglected Squad Mates.
1. Meeting TIM

So, there were numerous things about Mass Effect 2 that I didn't like. The lack of a plot. The writer's obsessive desire to make the Council look as stupid as possible. And so on. The 'Cerberus railroading'(as it has been rightly named by others) was so implausible that it required the death and subsequent resurrection of Shepard to accomplish.

Shooting Canon is a series of short stories dealing with some of these improbable situations, along with some character studies, and anything else that sounds interesting. They each independent, though not free of all weakness, and may contradict each other.

Disclaimer; nothing stated in this short story should in any way be taken as an indication as to how Antiheroine will turn out.

* * *

The bland, square room surrounding her dissolved into a sprawling, black office. A blazing red star, surprisingly close, dominated the starscape out the windows that formed an entire wall, reflecting spectacularly off the mirrored floor. And in the middle sat a man, impeccably dressed, in a comfortable-looking office chair. His eyes glowed blue in his shadowed face, lit dimly by the red glow of his cigarette as he drew in a lung-full of smoke. If he saw anything at the center of the universe, Kara guessed, it was not humanity; it was him.

"Commander Shepard."

"Jack. I though we'd be meeting face to face."

"I'm sure you understand the need for people who know—what did you call me?"

"Jack Harper. Mercenary, xenophobe, and terrorist."

He took another pull from his cigarette. His expression remained serene, but for a subtle narrowing of his eyes. She had caught him off guard, but she was under no illusion that events had shifted in her favor. He was a skilled manipulator, operating on his own ground. The advantage was his. "You know something about me."

It wasn't hard; the extranet was full of rumors, some of which fit neatly with the data recovered from Saren's private files. Sorting out the truth required nothing more scarce than persistence and reason. It seemed her memory had, miraculously, survived brain-death, freeze-damage, and planetary re-entry. "More than you know about me."

"I know about the Reapers."

If he was trying to impress her, it fell flat. The head of every major intelligence network in the galaxy knew about the Reapers, as did the head of every government in Council space. If Cerberus still maintained contacts within the Alliance, it was impossible that he _not_ know. Saren's files had also mentioned that Jack had encountered Reaper tech around the time of the First Contact War, and it had changed him. It would be foolish of her to not regard him as partially indoctrinated. "So what?"

Another breath of smoke. "Human colonies in the Terminus systems have been disappearing mysteriously. There's no damage, no evidence of struggle or weapons fire, the colonists are simply gone. The Alliance has claimed slavers are responsible. I suspect the allies of the Reapers."

"You brought me back from the dead for that?" He had a number of agents capable of investigating for him, including the cold but impressive Miranda Lawson, whom she had just met herself, some of them with the training to do things properly—training that she lacked. No, she suspected a different agenda; he wanted her to be seen working for him. She was a capable marine and leader, though irreplaceable in neither role. Beyond that she was a symbol. She was the heroine of Elysium, humanity's first Spectre, and the woman who had defeated Saren. Through her actions humanity had a seat on the Council, and some measure of respect from the races it served beside. She had made Cerberus obsolete, but her cooperation could change that. He would never get it.

"Shepard, the future of humanity is at stake. The Reapers have singled our species out for special attention, and you're the only one capable of stopping them."

Kara smiled. "If you truly believe that, you'll allow me to return to Council space, where I will resume my post as Spectre. I will conduct an investigation in that capacity."

"You are free to speak to the Council, of course, but I assure you they will not cooperate. First, however, the colony at Freedom's Progress has been hit recently, and I'd like—"

"No."

"What?"

"I'm not going to make an appearance wearing your colors. Send someone else."

"… but Shepard, humanity is under attack—"

"And has established its own means for dealing with the crisis. I don't answer to humanity, I don't answer to the Alliance, and I will not answer to you." Miranda had suggested that Cerberus spent billions of credits on her resurrection, more than enough to hire every mercenary company in the Terminus systems. If the amount was correct, Harper would not risk threatening her, but would attempt to use her more subtly. If he knew her at all, he would already have a plan to enforce her cooperation. First, though, he would appear to give in.

"Very well, Shepard. I'll have Jacob take you in one of the shuttles. Miss Lawson will investigate Freedom's Progress. I only hope you haven't lost us a valuable opportunity."

Kara shook her head, and walked through the projected room, leaving the Illusive Man talking to empty space.

* * *

Thanks for reading. If you enjoyed the experience, please leave a review. Feel free to make suggestions about other scenes for Kara to inexplicably drop in on. This collection is won't be a priority, as it was taken up more as a distraction from writing Antiheroine, but who knows what may come of it.


	2. Righteousness

I admit, this was the first project in this series I started working on, after 'Meeting TIM'. I only had five hundred words, though, out of about four thousand. It's interesting that both reviews had the same idea.

Let me expand for a moment on the premise of this exercise: Kara Shepard's character, but not her history, are lifted from Antiheroine. All decisions made prior to the start of each chapter are straight Bioware Paragon, even when Lawful Stupid. Hence, despite walking out on TIM in the previous chapter, she is now working for him. The only potential love interest here is Liara. As LIs are not canon, I'm willing to work with any of them, so long as the relationship is plausible(I hope that answers alienyouthct's question).

NonSolus makes a few other suggestions: Tali's Trial, which I might be able to work with. Arrival might also be worth playing around with. I'm not sure what to say about the Council, though. Their behavior is so idiotic as to be a blatant plot device; another part of the Cerberus Railroading, in fact.

* * *

CHAPTER TWO_  
Righteousness_

"Tell me what I need to know, and I shall be gone from here. Where did you send her?"

Kara frowned. She could hardly claim to understand the Justicars of Thessia, but the elder Asari moved with grace and precision that spoke only of death; no mercy shone in her eyes, no doubt. Retribution walked in her footsteps. And justice? No doubt it fled from her shadow. Melodramatic, yes, and superstitious, but Justicars were revered by their people. An anachronism, but not so different from the Spectres in conception. Agents, beyond all law but their own.

"You think I'd betray her? She'd hurt me in ways you can't even imagine."

The second Asari, a mercenary of the Eclipse company, was trapped between fear of bloody revenge inflicted by the criminal she shielded, and the death that stared at her with eyes of pale, cold grey-blue.

"The name of the ship. Your life hangs on the answer, Lieutenant."

Kara wondered who it might be, who was more terrifying than the certainty of death at the Justicar's hands. Something that could endure or evade the threat she faced, the dangerous warrior-matriarch, and return to exact a frightful revenge on its betrayers. A Justicar's judgement was swift, at least.

"You can kill me, but one of us will take you down, Justicar." Bravado. There was little else left.

The Justicar's expression did not change as she wrapped the younger mercenary—perhaps still in her second century—in a biotic field, and flung her across the room, though a window, and onto the balcony below. Illium's warm upper atmosphere, comfortably dense and warm, rushed in through the gap, tasting faintly of industrial fumes. Reducing her own mass with more biotics, the matriarch followed, her descent graceful, an angel of death borne on invisible wings.

"What was the name of the ship she left on?"

It made sense that this third party was another Asari. Justicars had no standing under the Council, and no authority to hunt down members of other species beyond the borders of the Republic. What crime, however, could demand relentless pursuit?

"Go to hell!" the younger Asari snarled, pinned to the ground by the matriarch's foot on her throat.

That was it. In another moment, the mercenary would be dead, and corpses did not reveal secrets. Besides, this was not justice. Kara threw herself forward.

"Find peace in the embrace—"

Kara struck the Justicar from the side, hard enough to knock her off balance and not much more. It was enough. Her squad, made up of Garrus and Jack, lingered behind; they knew little of the Justicars, beyond the warning delivered by Detective Anaya of the Nos Astra police. It was enough to teach them cautious.

The Justicar regained her footing about a pace away, and stared at the new arrivals in confusion. The code of the Justicars did not even make reference to aliens; the most recent changes predated their first encounter with the Salarians, and that was fifteen hundred years ago.

An educated guess, however, said that Kara had earned a swift death, for by her one act she now numbered amongst the wicked. She turned her back on the Justicar, and hauled the mercenary to her feet, pushing the young Asari towards her companions. "Take her back to the station. See if you can't get the name of that ship out of her."

"But Shepard—"

"Don't argue Garrus. You can't help me here."

The Turian's mandibles tightened, and he shook his head. Still, he did as she ordered, prodding the Asari mercenary into motion with the barrel of his rifle. Jack, not all that concerned with Kara's fate, merely sneered in her direction, before following him out.

Kara waited until they were gone to turn and face the Justicar.

"There are few Asari who would stand between a Justicar and her goal," the Asari said. Her voice was calm, hardly changed from threatening the young mercenary with death, as she circled Kara. Her armor and equipment was the very best, close-fitting and elegantly designed. "Yet, here you are, a… human? Do you know what I am?"

"I don't know your goal," Kara said, tracking the Justicar only with her eyes. As skilled as she was, she knew she would lose a fight with the Asari. "I oppose your methods."

"The mercenary you saved is a murderer, and the one she protects is worse still. Do you also oppose justice?"

Kara shook her head. "I don't claim to know what justice is. I know it isn't absolute."

"The Code is absolute, and you invite death with your interference. What is your name, human?"

"Kara Shepard. I came here to ask for your help, not to fight you."

The Asari shook her head, a deep weariness in her expression. No compromise, no mercy; that was part of the Justicar code. Kara braced herself. "I am sorry, Kara. Find peace in the embrace—"

"Wait!" Both the Justicar and Kara turned to seek the source of the interruption.

"I wish you'd listen to the human, Justicar," Detective Anaya said, walking down from the entrance. "I've been ordered to take you into custody."

* * *

"The name of the ship is the AML Demeter," Kara said, depositing the Eclipse datapad on the table next to the Justicar. "They smuggled an Ardat-Yakshi aboard. She's your target?"

The elder Asari drew in a slow breath, and let it out between her dark lips. "And how many mercenaries did you kill, to recover that information?"

Kara hissed sharply. "About twenty-five less than you would have," she said. The local Eclipse band was mostly Asari, aware of the unforgiving nature of the Justicars and their code. She could at least provide them with an option other than fighting to the death, which Samara could not.

Grey eyes opened, meeting hers firmly. "And what of those you let live? They will continue their life of crime, because you would not stop them."

"That is an old argument. In the end, it will leave more corpses at your feet than theirs."

"I mourn the necessity of judgement," Samara replied, unfolding herself and sliding gracefully on the half-wall upon which she had perched. "I do not shrink from it. As you have assisted in my mission, your transgression may be overlooked, Kara Shepard. As I have what I came for, I am prepared to depart immediately. Will this satisfy your superiors, Detective?"

Anaya, who had watched their exchange with unease, nodded. She too had been under threat of death, simply for following the orders of her superior—that Samara not be allowed to roam freely, killing Asari and aliens at will. "You're free to go, Justicar. It has been an honor having you in my station. And it's nice you didn't kill me, too."

The Justicar nodded respectfully at the detective, and turned to go. Kara followed her through the door of the station.

"This Ardat-Yakshi you hunt, she has killed?"

Samara paused, lowering her head, her eyes closed. "Many times, and there is no doubt she will do so again. She has embraced the _Yakshi_, taking pleasure in her power."

"She has brought you pain. I'm sorry."

The Asari drew another deep breath. "Is there purpose to these questions, human?"

"Despite the centuries between us, Samara, we're not all that different. Intelligent, strong. Unwilling to compromise. I'm trapped, working for someone I don't trust. We may never get along well, but I believe I can trust you. And I need that. I want your help, and that means your problems are mine."

"Detective Anaya mentioned a mission you were on."

"Hunting the Collectors," Kara explained. "I've been told they're working for the Reapers. Both need to be stopped."

Samara nodded. "I would relish the chance to test myself against them. In exchange, you will further assist me in my hunt?"

"I will."

The Asari sighed, and finally knelt formally at Kara's feet. "Then by the Code, I will serve you, Shepard. Your choices are my choices, your morals are my morals. Your wishes are my code."

Kara frowned. That wasn't what she wanted. "Samara…"

"It is necessary, Shepard, if I am to follow your orders, rather than the Code."

She nodded faintly. Her only other option was to forgo recruiting the Justicar, and she felt sure that she would need the help.

* * *

Kara hated clubs. The music was loud and uninteresting, overwhelming any attempt at conversation. When it failed to give her a headache, which was rare, the constant flashing of lights did the job admirably. The dress standard for human women and Asari was misogynistic at best—though how the monogendered 'female' Asari managed to fit themselves into an antifeminist role was difficult to imagine. The drinks—even the non-alcoholic ones—were overpriced. She had struggled to inform her crew that no, she did not want to join their night out. Jacob especially was beyond annoying, taking her every attempt at casual conversation as flirtation.

Yet, here she was. For Samara. Amusing that the sternly asexual—despite her insistence on a cleavage-revealing and skin-tight Justicar uniform, rather than actual armor, even in a firefight—was able to drag her out when no one else could. Not for dancing, of course—the thought of grinding her hips into the ancient Asari's groin, as one did in such clubs, seemed more than a little absurd, even had they been interested in each other. Rather, it was for a mission.

As Kara understood it, Samara had three daughters, all of them Ardat-Yakshi. For humans, correcting genetic disorders was a matter of simple gene therapy, but the Asari seemed to prefer medieval-style monasteries, in which two of the Matriarch's daughters were forever imprisoned. The last, Mirala, had fled confinement. It was she they hunted.

Kara sighed. She did not approve of the Asari's handling of the defect. The recessive base-pairs, inert alone, resulted in mental links that ripped apart the synapses of their partners when matched. They were lethal, but no less capable of restraining themselves than any other of their race. If her existence had not been criminalized, Mirala might never have fled, never learned to kill. She went by Morinth now, the Asari equivalent of a vampiress, feeding on the life of her victims.

"Heeey, honey, you know you wan'it!" The voice was human male, but not directed at her. If not shouted too loudly even for the club, she would never have noticed it. It was the kind of culturally-induced stupidity that helped give humanity a bad name, and needed to be slapped down quickly, but she had more important concerns.

"I already told you, human. Get away from me." Asari, obviously. Kara spotted her, pushing away a brown-haired man, well-drunk by the way he struggled to stay upright.

"Don' say that. We's made for eech uther," he insisted, staggering forward.

Apparently, he was determined to be impossible to ignore. A mild shift of mass in the area of his legs was enough to topple him—the Asari moved out of the way, allowing her harasser to smack face-first into the hard floor. "Hey, who did that?" he slurred, though Kara doubted he had even noticed the cause of his fall. Most people wouldn't have, even when sober. She knelt over him, pulling his head up by the hair. He let out an alcohol-laced belch that almost made her gag. "Heeey, sexeh. I'm aveh- aveh- ah-veh-la-ble."

"Next time," she suggested, allowing her contempt to fill her voice, "try a Vorcha. They're more your type."

She let his head drop, and stood, to find the Asari watching her curiously. She stepped over the prone man, switching to a friendly smile. "I'm sorry about him."

The Asari was young, possibly new to her maiden stage, and her brow scrunched in confusion. "Is he your responsibility?"

"No, just my species," Kara said, shaking her head faintly.

"Oh. Can I buy you a drink," the maiden asked, "as a thank you?"

Alcohol would almost certainly turn Kara's latent headache into a full-blown migraine. "How about a friendly dance, instead?"

The Asari offered a flirtatious smile. "Sure," she said, claiming Kara's hand. "I've been wanting to get on the floor all night."

Letting herself be led out onto the floor, Kara smiled when the Asari put her arms around her neck, their bodies brushing lightly together as they moved. "That's a little more intimate than I expected."

"Too close?" the Asari asked. Kara's arms slid around her waist, and she grinned. "Guess not. I'm Takira. Are you new here?"

"Kara, yes. I travel."

"Rescuing young Asari, and seducing them into your bed?"

Kara laughed. It might have been an offer, but she hadn't the time. "I'm afraid not, Takira. I just don't like to see anyone in that situation."

"That's a shame," Takira smirked. "You are kind of sexy."

"And you are a flirt," Kara smiled. She had to remember, she was here to show off for Mirala.

Takira's warm expression turned into a worried frown. "Kara… that strange Asari is staring at us."

"Keep smiling, and tell me about her."

Her young dance partner made a show of laughing, pushing her playfully without letting her go, as though she had made some confusing joke or another. "She's in here some nights, always alone. When she leaves with someone, they don't come back." She leaned in closer, whispering in Kara's ear; "Behind me, in the shadows."

It took her a moment to noticed an Asari, standing in the shadow of one of the pillars surrounding the dance floor. She could easily have confused this watcher for Samara, except for the dark clothes and predatory expression. It was certainly Mirala, hunting her next victim, and she had her eye on Kara. Samara had said to navigate the currents of the club naturally, to finish fights but not to start them. To appear confident, not belligerent.

It was impossible not to be aware of the Krogan dancing behind her, clumsy in his bulk, but still graceful in his own way. She reached out with her biotics, forcing him to stumble in her direction. He did not crashed into her, but was close enough that when she took a step back with her parter, she bumped into him.

"Watch where you're going, human. The standards of this place sure dropped when they started letting your filthy kind in here."

She squeezed Takira's hand as she turned on the Krogan, meeting his near eye coldly. "Why don't you apologize for your flailing and leave. Before I throw you out."

He shrugged his massive shoulders, evidently deciding she wasn't worth the trouble. "Fine, sorry," he grumbled, backing off. "Touchy little pyjak," he muttered, as he turned away. She felt guilty enough about using him to ignore the insult—his dancing hadn't been _that_ bad. Maybe even better than hers.

Takira's eyes were wide on her, when she turned back. "You stare down Krogan?" Her eyes narrowed sharply. "You tripped him up, didn't you? Like you did that drunk human."

"Yes."

"You were showing off? Not for me. For _her_?" To her credit, Takira did not gesture towards Mirala, despite her surprise.

"I know what she is. I'll be careful," Kara said, leaning close. "Trust me."

Takira yawned widely. "I should go. She won't speak to you if you aren't alone."

Just her luck, to meet an attractive, sharp Asari just when she had something important happening. "Thanks, Takira," she said, catching the young Asari's arm. "I'm sorry for cutting our dance short. I enjoyed it."

* * *

"Sometimes I come here, and there's no one interesting to talk to. Some nights, there's just one person. Tonight it's you. Why is that?"

Kara smiled. Mirala was entrancing, no doubt about that. Her every motion breathed elegance, power. Omega's Afterlife nightclub was the perfect hunting ground for one like her, full of unfortunate fools, eager to please someone they believed might lift them up, if only to heights of orgasmic bliss. "Because I never give up on what I want."

"And what is that?"

"Freedom. Sometimes I stare out at the stars, and imagine what I'll do when I visit them. Explore a city, wander a wilderness. Seduce a local maid. It's an adventure. It's life. And it's better than any drug."

The Asari's eyes took on a familiar light. "You don't sound like the type to prowl a nightclub. Everything in here is a drug."

"Yes. Like this music. It sets a mood, dark and passionate, throbbing inside your mind. It's like lust imposed from the outside. It's no substitute for a passionate lover."

"One can enhance the other," Mirala said. "Like hallix. It slithers into my soul, opening me to the music—or the lust. The feelings are deeper, and hotter, but they're still my own."

"Are they?" Kara asked. "Drugs can open you up and turn you out, but it's easy to let them take responsibility for your actions, and your feelings. They start as the means, and become the end. Much like violence."

"Only for the weak," Mirala snorted, her elegant façade dropped for just a moment.

Kara shook her head. "The weak enslave themselves," she said softly. "They give in to violence out of fear or lust, and in the end they become it, are controlled by it. It's the only thing they have. I've flown across the galaxy, and if there's one thing I believe, it is this; the strong always have a choice, even if only between giving in or death." She thought of Saren, and his last act of defiance against the Reaper Sovereign. Would the battle have been won, if not for that strength?

"I'm sorry," Kara sighed, leaning on the table and lowering her face. "I didn't come here to moralize, and you certainly don't need me telling you how to live."

Mirala's hand slid along her cheek, under her jaw, and gently lifted her face. "I want to get out of here. My apartment is nearby. Would you… like to come along?"

* * *

"I love clubs. People, movement, heat. I can still hear the base like… the drums of a great hunt, out for your blood. But here, it's muted, and you're safe. Sometimes I want it so much I can feel it, but it's an illusion. It always is."

Kara feigned relaxation, leaving back into the firm cushions of Mirala's couch. The Asari sat across from her in the little conversation circle, her façade loosened just a bit. "What is it you want safety from?"

"I don't know. Myself? I've been running for four hundred years. Is that weakness? What am I running from?"

"I don't have those answers, Morinth," Kara said, moving closer to the Asari, and laying a hand on her leg. "I'm sorry."

Mirala laughed, bitterly. "You sound like a Matriarch, Kara. It's like you know me. And I want you, and I _need_ you to want me. You do…" she closed her eyes, breathing quickly. "You should go."

"I can't do that, Mirala. I'm sorry, but this has to end."

The Asari stood, scowling. "How could you know that—" she paused, her expression falling as she realized the truth. "Samara."

At that moment, the door to hall outside opened. Mirala's head snapped around as her mother walked through, the elder Asari hitting her with a biotic attack before she could even respond, slamming her against the window, spreading cracks across the view of Omega's open interior.

"Mother," Mirala said. It was almost a plea, despite the four hundred years of hate that laced her voice.

"Do not call me that, Morinth," Samara demanded, throwing a second attack at her daughter.

"I can't choose to stop being your daughter, mother," Mirala hissed. She released a wave of biotic energy, pushing her mother back, and dropped to the floor.

"You made your choice long ago!"

"What choice? My only crime was being born, and for that it was this, or a cell!"

Mirala attacked, Samara straining to hold off her daughter. "Enough, Morinth. You're a murderer, nothing more."

"Kara, don't let her do this to me," Mirala begged, her mother's biotics beginning to overpower her.

Kara sighed. She could see blame on both sides, the unpalatable choice offered by uncompromising law, and the equation of violence with strength by the desperate exile. One, at least, tried to limit its killing with some sort of ideal, archaic and brutal though it was. "You know I can't do that, Mirala.

The younger Asari gave a shout of rage, pushing back with all her strength. Samara, overwhelmed, fell back, a followup attack by her daughter slamming her into the far wall. She struggled to rise, before falling to the floor.

Kara placed herself between them, catching Mirala's arm as she prepared to throw another attack. She was not at all confident of her chances against the Ardat-Yakshi, but she was unwilling to the Justicar die. "Is this your decision, Mirala? To continue killing, hiding behind the violence?"

"Decision? You tricked me. I don't have any choice."

Releasing the Asari's arm, Kara let her hands fall to her side. "The killing was always your choice, Mirala. You know that, and you can let it end."

The Ardat-Yakshi's hands closed around Kara's face, her eyes closing. "Embrace eternity," she hissed.

Kara could sense Mirala's mind, filled with anger and fear, it washed against her own disciplined calm. It was too late for her to resist. She would die, painfully; but perhaps Samara would have a chance to finish the battle.

Mirala stepped back, her hands falling. "I'm sorry, Kara. I don't have your strength." She sank weakly to the floor. "Do it, Kara. Quickly," she sighed. "Don't make her…"

Kneeling in front of the Asari, Kara brushed her cheek softly. "Find peace, Mirala."

A swift jerk of her hands snapped the Asari's neck, the lifeless Ardat-Yakshi slumping to the floor. It was not her proudest day.

* * *

Samara was sitting on the floor of the starboard lounge when Kara entered, meditating, or simply staring off into space. The Asari had spent more time than usual in the small, quiet room, since their return from Omega. She had good reason.

Kara sat beside the Justicar in silence. If time allowed, she would have tried meditating as well, to rid her mind of the look on Mirala's face as she died. The feel of cracking bone. Shooting someone down from across a battlefield was so quick and clean in comparison. Or simply impersonal? Sometimes their dying screams haunted her sleep, but even the nightmare in which she relived her death would be a relief compared to what she'd endured last night.

"You killed the brightest and boldest of my daughters, Kara. It is ironic that I cannot forgive you for that, when I was prepared to do it myself."

"I blame you, Samara. Your idiotic, unchanging code. It drove her just as it drove you. You would never stop hunting her, and she kept killing, looking for the strength to fight back. In the end, she found it. She forgave you."

"You are brutal, Shepard," the Justicar whispered.

"I'm tired, angry, and ashamed. I've barely slept since I killed her. If I wanted to dance around the truth, I'd talk to Miranda."

Samara drew a deep breath, and held it for a lingering moment. "For nearly four hundred years, hunting her has been my life. The truth was simple. She was monster, drawing strength from the lives she took. I was—_am_ justice."

"You're a monster," Kara stated coldly. "In your five thousand sutras of code, is mercy mentioned even once? What about protecting people from unjust law? No. The law is paramount, and mercy a weakness."

"Kara—"

"We'll make port at Illium tomorrow," Kara continued softly. "I want you off my ship. Consider your oath to me dissolved."

She stood quickly, stalking through the door before the Justicar could respond. She desperately needed someone to hold her, and the only person on board who seemed interested was a creepy Cerberus psychiatrist. There was a despicable cheerfulness about her, as she talked about 'loving' the aliens she endorsed oppressing, like a master petting her slave. Or a pet.

At least Tali had agreed to regularly clear her quarters of the bugs Miranda kept planting, so she could cry herself to sleep in peace.

* * *

Well, I don't know about hilarious. More like ponderous. Kara's reaction to Samara was easier to write. Morinth, less so. Honestly, watching her club scenes as I wrote this, it seemed like Shepard did nothing but sit there and patronize the Ardat-Yakshi, because any honest opinion would scare her off.

I would think that someone like Morinth would prefer thought-provoking conversation, to someone agreeing with her every word.

Anyway, 'tis done. We welcome your comments and suggestions.


	3. Denial

So I decided that having Kara tell 'those idiots off and [call] them on their moronic and, dare I say, criminal incompetence(NonSolus, review)' was more or less the same thing I'd done to TIM. With the next chapter of Antiheroine wrapping itself up early(I may be posting it as you read this, but only if you're quick), and Tali's trial looking a little overwhelming, I thought I'd give it a try.

I may take up the trial next.

* * *

CHAPTER THREE  
_Denial_

Kara paused below the Council Chamber, at the pinnacle of the Presidium Tower. Strange to think that two years had passed since finally caught Saren there, and fought his Reaper-animated corpse after he killed himself in a final act of defiance. When last she'd seen it, it had been in ruins, burning and exposed to space after being hit by a broken piece of Sovereign. For her, only a few months had passed, and only a few days since her death.

She was also not looking forward to seeing the Council again. They had ranged from patronizing to hostile during her pursuit of Saren, though had shown some gratitude after she saved their lives during the Battle of the Citadel.

Khalisah had just finished berating her for that choice, outside a cheap bar in Zakera ward. Or attempting to. The decision was not only morally correct, but tactically. The Alliance Fifth Fleet could not have brought its heavy guns to bear on Sovereign with the Geth attacking them from behind, and if they alone were not enough, the Destiny Ascension had the biggest gun in Citadel space. Only a fool would have let it get destroyed, and only a murderous thug for the reasons the xenophobic reporter suggested.

She had expressed her feelings forcefully. More Alliance officers and crew would have died defeating the Geth, had she waited until the ten thousand Asari crewing their flagship were dead. They would have needed to take on the remaining ships head-on, with support from the Destiny Ascension or the remaining Citadel fleet, which had rallied to defend it. So her decision had saved lives, not just from the Council races, but humanity as well.

She sighed, and walked up the final set of stairs.

"—oh, Commander. We were just talking about you," David Anderson said, turning to face her. He stood on the petitioner's platform, rather than the raised dais with the other Councillors, the better to greet her in person. He did not sound happy.

"Perfect," she said. "I'm ready to talk about how we're going to stop the Reapers."

"Ah, yes, Reapers," Sparatus said, his tone mocking. "The immortal race of sentient starships, allegedly waiting in darkspace. We have dismissed that claim."

Kara stared at him in shock. She had, admittedly, expected some resistance to her temporary alliance with Cerberus, but she certainly didn't expect the Council to be in denial. The evidence was all around them, after all. Her suit recordings of her conversations with Saren, not to mention Sovereign itself on Virmire, and the Vigil, the Prothean VI on Ilos.

"Shepard," Anderson interrupted. "No one else encountered the hologram on Ilos that told you the truth about the Reapers. Only you and your crew ever spoke with Soveriegn. I believe you, but—"

"You mean to say," Kara said, cutting him off softly, her gaze still fixed on the Council, "that after all I went through, you still refuse to trust me? I died on one of your pointless missions, so I'd think I'm entitled to some fucking respect."

"Yes," Valern said, not showing any emotion at her outburst, "and the rumors surrounding your return are… unsettling. We will not—"

"We called this meeting so you could explain your actions, Kara. We owe you that much. Why are you working for Cerberus?"

"I'm not," Kara stated flatly. Her relentless assault on several Cerberus facilities, during her hunt for Saren, should have proven that. "They are simply the ones who rebuilt me."

"Rebuilt… you?" Tevos asked. Kara found the thought no less disturbing. Considering the damage done to her corpse… how much of Kara Shepard had survived? Was she still herself, or did she simply believe? She wondered if she might get the opinion of a reputable—and independent—doctor, before leaving the Citadel.

Kara nodded. "I told you, I was dead. Or so I've been told." She had no real proof of that, either, just a collection of new cybernetic implants, two missing years. It was possible that her memory of dying in orbit of Alchera was faked as well. "Harper gave me a ship and crew. I may follow his leads, but I don't serve him."

"That's not what our reports say," Valern told her.

"What…" Kara hesitated. Reports? How—she had woken up the Cerberus base, explored Freedom's Progress, and gone straight to the Citadel. "How could you possibly have reports? I was dead five days ago."

And the answer, of course; Jack Harper was a master manipulator. He had seeded stories about her serving Cerberus even before she woke up, _knowing_ that she would turn to the Council for help. She should have realized it sooner. "You're being used. To force me to turn to him."

"That's absurd," Sparatus growled. "Cerberus is a motley collection of terrorists and thugs—"

"Cerberus is an extremely dangerous organization, Varrus," Valern said. "As they have already demonstrated."

"Councillors, you have a choice," Kara said. "You can either trust me, accept that I am right about the Reapers, and give me the support I need to fight them, or you can let Harper continue to use me to boost Cerberus' prestige among humans."

"We accept that you believe the Reapers exist, Shepard, but that alone is not proof," Tevos replied. "Saren was a compelling and charismatic individual. He convinced the Geth the Reapers were real, just as he convinced you."

"Forgive me, Adar, but I don't believe you're that much of a fool," Kara snorted. "Sovereign was beyond anything we've seen before. The Geth ships did not share its configuration, proportional barrier strength, or the liquid-metal weapons in its arms. Its hull was made of a completely unknown material. The _Normandy_ had sensor logs of it performing a turn that would sheer an Asari _cruiser_ in half. And it accessed parts of the Citadel you didn't even know existed. Have you followed up on any of this?"

The question was met by silence. "You're supposed to be the leaders of the galaxy," she snapped, "but you're acting like a bunch of idiot schoolchildren, reveling in your own self-imposed ignorance."

Sparatus' eyes narrowed dangerous, while Valern frowned angrily. Tevos, at least, had the grace to look ashamed. "Uh, Shepard…" Anderson hissed in warning.

"Don't bother, Anderson. It's been two years—I need more than words." Kara focused her attention on the Asari, who had been her closest thing to a supporter on the Council during her hunt for Saren. "At the end, it comes down to this; if you trust me, help me. If not, then I'm wasting all of our time."

"We need proof, Commander," Tevos sighed. "I'm sorry."

"You'll have proof enough when the Reapers invade," Kara frowned. She really did understand that extraordinary claims required evidence to match, but she felt sure that Sovereign had already provided it, and she wasn't asking for command of the combined fleets of the Council races. Just a crew, to replace the Cerberus one that came with the _Normandy SR2_, and perhaps some intelligence resources to help track down leads—and Jack Harper. She hated being manipulated, and she hated everything Cerberus stood for. "Then it will be too late for all of us. You, the people you swore to protect, your entire _species_ will die. The Protheans fought a war against the Reapers for three centuries, and at the end they managed to give us a warning, and a reprieve. I guess they shouldn't have bothered."

She studied the faces of the Councillors, but nothing she said made any difference. Finally, frustrated, she turned her back on them. She'd been so certain they'd help. If they wouldn't, then this cycle was as doomed as the last. She refused absolutely to work for Cerberus, but… she wasn't sure what that left her with. Nothing, it seemed like.

So be it.

* * *

_And now, a special bonus addition of Shooting Canon; 'Clone'_

"I've done further investigation regarding your facial scaring, Kara," Karin said, looking up at her commander from the chair in the _Normandy_'s medbay, "and the old adage of 'mind over matter' holds true. Negative attitudes and aggressive acts create adverse reactions with your cybernetic implants, while peaceful thoughts and compassionate actions promote healing. If you maintain a positive outlook, I believe your facial scarring will heal on its own."

"What is this," Kara asked, frowning in irritation. "A bad Star Wars clone?"

* * *

Sorry. Couldn't resist that last bit. Hope you've continued to enjoy this frequently humorless parody. We appreciate any reviews.


	4. Delays

I've been working on a few concepts for Shooting Canon. A bit with Jack; some of the Geth arc; and of course, this. I occasionally think about doing something with the Catalyst, but I doubt I'll ever get around to writing it down.

Updated to clarify a few things, specifically NonSolus' questions. Yes, this is Antiheroine's Shepard, sucked through a [bad plot device] and deposited in the Canon universe. You may have noticed that I tend to work these stories around a single alternate plot point-that is, what would Kara do differently-and then mock the rest of the flaws on the way. I haven't really decided what that might be, regarding the Quarian/Geth conflict.

* * *

CHAPTER FOUR  
Delays

"You're telling me that the Reapers left behind an artifact which predicts their arrival time?" Kara asked, staring incredulously at Doctor Amanda Kenson. From everything she had learned, the Reapers relied in part on surprise to take the galaxy. With the Citadel trap sabotaged by the Protheans, and Sovereign destroyed, they could no longer rely on finding an unprepared foe. Why would they reveal the time and place of their arrival, when it remained an important advantage? "This artifact, which you've called Object Rho, is embedded in an asteroid on the fringes of a Batarian-controlled star system. And you've decided to ram the asteroid into the Mass Relay, which, you hope, will successfully destroy it, triggering a supernova-level release of energy."

"Yes," Amanda stated seriously. If the middle-aged brunette noticed Kara's skepticism, she gave no sign of it. She had answered every question with vague but mostly satisfactory replies, all of which added up to nonsense.

Of course, it didn't make much difference. Kara had surreptitiously called for the Normandy after Amanda had admitted to receiving visions from a Reaper artifact, followed by a casual dismissal of the threat of Indoctrination, insisting that they 'knew what she was doing'. She'd left orders for the ship to follow them at a discreet distance, if she gave the signal, recognizing the possibilities from the moment Hackett had mentioned a possible reaper device. Because, when it came to indoctrination, no one had much in the way of facts. "Just to be clear, the Reapers aren't coming through this 'Alpha Relay'?"

"No, the relay is in standby. They're using FTL."

So destroying the relay—and the entire Bahak system, with its three hundred thousand Batarian colonists—would delay the Reapers by a month at most, as they continued using FTL to reach the nearest relay. After that, they could reach anywhere in the galaxy in a matter of days.

As Kara contemplated the pointlessness of the mission, Kenson took over the shuttle's controls, guiding them into a concealed hanger. The base needed careful heat management, to avoid detection by the patrols that frequently swept the system, which meant minimal exposed surfaces, and removing waste heat via special thermal sinks that were shipped out and dumped, probably by the same shuttles that brought supplies.

"Here we are," Amanda said, as they stepped out of the shuttle. The first thing Kara noticed was a large display with a countdown timer, prominently displayed over the interior door. Two days, three hours, twenty-five minutes. And twenty-six seconds. Odd placement for a base that didn't have any visitors. "Welcome to Project Base."

"Down to the seconds, Amanda? Are you sure that's right?"

"It is. The artifact has been giving off pulses at definite intervals since we found it. The intervals has been decreasing at a steady rate. It's reacting to the Reapers' proximity. In just over fifty-one hours, the pulses will become constant, and the Reapers will be here."

Two days versus a month wouldn't make much difference. Whether the Reapers knew it or not, the galaxy was unprepared. So the question was, did she call for evac and leave the Batarian colonists to their fate, or ram an asteroid into their relay and kill them herself? She still had to stop the Collectors—Harper had just sent her three more dossiers, one of which was on the charming Tali'Zorah—and Jacob wanted help tracking down his long lost father, none of which she could do if the Reapers weren't put off.

"Let me show you our proof," Kenson said. "The artifact is in our central lab area."

Kara almost laughed. She didn't need to see the artifact, as she already knew the Reapers were real. Even if she hadn't, the Doctor's plan was to crash it into a Relay, after which they could hardly show it to anyone else. She twisted her amused smile into an embarrassed one, and shifted her weight uncomfortably. "Actually, Amanda, I really need to pee, first. I've been stuck in this armor for hours…"

"Uh, yes," Amanda said, shrugging off a blank look. "This way."

Kara followed the Indoctrinated scientist, shaking her head. All she needed to contact her ship was a moment alone, and then… well, they would have to wait and see.

* * *

Two days was not enough time. She'd known from the beginning, but had insisted on trying anyway.

Securing the asteroid had taken less than an hour, despite the violent resistance of part of the researchers. An engineering team from the Normandy had quickly checked over all the base's systems, and wired the thrusters for remote control, while EDI reviewed the data on the artifact. The AI had confirmed everything Amanda had told her, about the Reapers' arrival, and the unique functionality of the local Mass Relay.

With that done, Kara had gone to Proconsul Tarek, head of the Batarian colony on Aratoht. The history between their two species had made convincing him to trust her a difficult endeavor, particularly with the rumors of her work with Cerberus, but she had the Council's reinstatement of her Spectre status on her side, and had willing released a mostly-incoherent Amanda Kenson into his custody. She took care to show him respect during their conversations, and, once his advisors had verified the data, he had agreed to evacuate the colony.

Colonization and passenger ships began to arrive six hours later, loading pre-selected colonists and a few necessities as quickly as they could. Aratoht was a colony of two hundred thousand Batarians, though more than half were slaves. Even if the evacuation was limited to free subjects of the Hegemony, and the ships packed past their limit, moving everyone would take weeks.

They had minutes. She had rigged the asteroid for remote piloting, and then moved the Normandy to a safe distance. Did she activate its thrusters on the slim hope of buying the galaxy a few more weeks of peace? At best, precise timing would let her catch the first few Reapers in the explosion, destroying or damaging them.

She didn't know if it would make a difference. She didn't know how many Reapers there were, if there were different types, or if they had weaknesses that a clever tactician could exploit. She couldn't think of a single useful fact she'd uncovered while chasing after the Collectors. She only knew that the galaxy was not prepared, and was not preparing. In that light, an extra thousand years would make no difference when the war finally began.

And really, it was no longer her choice. She had filled the Normandy's cargo and crew decks with Batarian refugees—Miranda had not taken that news well—and turned over the Project Base codes to Proconsul Tarek. If he trusted her enough to activate the thrusters, and destroy the relay… maybe that would finally convince the galaxy that the Reapers were real.

* * *

I reviewed some of Arrival's conversations with Kenson while writing this, and maybe I missed something while doing so, but I'm honestly not clear on one point; were the Reapers meant to arrive _through_ the relay, or merely _at_ it(then to use its special powers to jump straight to the Citadel)? As Relay travel in Mass Effect is instant, or close enough, I assume the later.

Thanks for reading, leave a review. Leave a suggestion for the next chapter while you're at it.


	5. Rivalry

So this is me avoiding the next chapter of Antiheroine again... but it does help me to refocus. Jack is very nearly the opposite of Samara; young, bound by nothing but her own desires(and the occasional vigilante mercenary), angry rather than calm, looking for revenge rather than justice. We've already seen how Kara reacted to the Justicar... how will she react to the convict?

Fair warning; I've tried to write Jack properly, which means plenty of profanity. In my opinion, that's less harmful than the rampant bigotry which is often spoken if front of even younger children, but if you disagree(and you're a teen) you may want to skip this chapter. Feel free to use your own discretion.

* * *

CHAPTER FIVE  
_Rivalry_

"Can't just shut them one down," Mordin reported, pressing a few controls on the interface as he confirmed his statement. "Problematic. Release Jack, get horde of angry felons. Effective distraction. Some may escape, unleash mayhem on galaxy. Your choice, Captain."

Kara understood that the station had been converted from a derelict animal transport, complete with blocks of stasis cells. Releasing them all at once made some sense in that context, but had no one thought to rewrite the code since then? She groaned. But for the greed and foolishness of Turian mercenary, she could have collected the prisoner and left. Releasing Jack was a dubious enough prospect on its own, but at least she would have had some control over the situation. Now, her influence did not reach beyond the range of her gun, which was always the worst place to begin. She should never had let Harper get her into the predicament at all, but she couldn't seem to resist following his orders.

It was her own fault, though. If she had done proper research on the Blue Suns and their prison station, Purgatory, she could have guessed that Warden Kuril would be more interested in the bounty on her head than the bail paid by Cerberus. They paid their expenses by blackmail, after all—the Warden had admitted it without shame—demanding that planets pay them to not release dangerous prisoners on their soil. In addition, those imprisoned there had no means of contesting their sentence, and were frequently tortured.

"Open the cells," she decided. This was the Blue Suns' territory, and they were outnumbered and trapped. Fighting their way out would be nearly impossible, and with communications jammed, she couldn't order Miranda and Jacob into the fray. This way, she was using the prisoners to aid her own escape, knowing full well that the guards would not hesitate to kill them. Would Kuril be more concerned with capturing her, or keeping control of his income source?

The latter, she decided. Her presence had been a profitable opportunity to be seized, but not worth losing the station over. He would rightly expect her to get what she came for and leave. As much as she detested Purgatory, she did not have the time or resources to do anything positive about it.

"It's done, Captain."

Kara stepped up to the window, looking down at Jack's isolation cell. It seemed that Kuril kept the dangerous young woman in stasis, the chamber venting coolant as it rose out of its insulated storage cell. As a means of punishment, she felt it lacked something; Jack would no more remember her imprisonment than Kara remembered being dead.

Through the transparent front of the cell, Kara could see the prisoner, dressed in a basic prison jumpsuit. Straps around her limbs and neck secured her in place, and, already beginning to wake, she struggled weakly against them.

"Find us a way down there, Mordin." She would much prefer to meet Jack on her own terms, rather than chasing the angry biotic across the station.

"Already done," the Salarian stated. "This way."

* * *

"Fuck, you're with Cerberus. What is it you want?" Jack demanded, pacing restlessly, ready to lash out with her biotics at any moment.

Kara knew that Harper left details out of her briefings more out of habit than any real need, but she had not expected her latest potential recruit to have ties to his organization. She suspected that it was meant as a dramatic revelation, the airing of an old, dark secret—another attempt at making her trust him, like crewing her ship with ignorant idealists rather than the usual Cerberus bigots? She didn't have time to untangle the web, not with an angry biotic attempting to stare her down. "I don't know what they did to you, but I'm not here to hurt you."

"You must think I'm fucking stupid, to push that shit," the angry biotic snapped. She had traded her prison coveralls for a thin leather strap and pants, recovered from the locker in which the guards had stuffed her possessions, revealing a scrawny torso, almost completely covered by tattoos.

"No, but you don't have much choice. You can either trust me, or wait for the Blue Suns to put you back in a cell, because we both know you aren't going to fight your way out of this one."

"Yeah?" Jack smirked, her head taking on a cocky tilt. "You wanna bet?"

"I'm not your enemy, Jack. My name is Kara, I don't work for Cerberus, and I'm asking for your help."

Mordin crossed his arms impatiently. "Non-productive. Dialogue impossible. Recommend shooting her, patch her up later. Before more guards show up, preferably."

"I'd like to see you try," Jack retorted, but she made no aggressive move. Progress, of sorts.

"Is that a typical STG recruitment tactic?" Garrus asked. "That explains the Krogan rebellion."

"She makes her own choice," Kara said quietly, cutting of Mordin's response. "Quickly, though."

"That's a Cerberus ship," Jack said, pointing at the _Normandy_, the gold and black logo on the ship's nose clearly visible through a viewport. "I'm betting it has lots of Cerberus databases. I want a look at those files. See what they've got on me. You want me on your team, let me go through them."

Kara nodded. "Full access, Jack. Whatever you need. Now, can we go?"

* * *

"I'm not your fucking sheep, Shepard," Jack snapped, prowling across the oddly useless space under Engineering like a caged animal. In some sense, Kara understood her as such, all bitterness and instinct, lashing out at anyone who came near. "You're worse than that fucking Cerberus cunt. She touches me again, and I'll fucking rip her arms off."

The description of the falsely cheerful Kelly Chambers was clear enough, however patriarchal the insults. "You know, Jack," Kara sighed, not bothering to track the biotic's unpredictable movements, "I think we should make a few things clear. Starting with; if you _ever_ threaten a member of my crew again, I'll throw you off the ship myself."

"Try it, and I'll fucking smear you across the walls."

Kara sighed softly. She had some experience with the psychology of violence, its causes and its traumas, but Jack was beyond anything she'd seen; everything about her was a shield, raised to protect a young woman scarred by Cerberus' calculated brutality, and the life that followed. Threats would only strengthen the barriers Kara wanted to break down. "I'm sorry."

She folded her arms across her heavily tattooed chest. "Sorry enough to fuck the hell off?"

Smiling, Kara shook her head, and seated herself on Jack's cot. "No."

"Shit, Shepard," Jack sneered, crossing her arms across her chest. "I'm always looking for a good tumble, but you just don't have the equipment."

Kara sighed. "Is that all you think you have to offer, Jack? Violence and sex? The truth is, I need to know I can trust you at my back, and you need to learn to trust me."

"Not fucking likely," the tattooed biotic snorted.

Brushing her fingers through her hair, Kara frowned; she needed to find some way for the two of them to connect. She wasn't Samara, after all, dispensing judgement as if justice could ever be some sort of absolute. Jack's life was very much a reaction, not of her own choosing, from the Cerberus-sponsored eezo exposure of her mother, through her various gang affiliations, right down her to imprisonment on Purgatory.

"If you need anything, Jack, all you have to do is ask," Kara said, pushing to her feet. It was the only solution she could think of, at present; to make herself available, without pressure.

* * *

"I've got thoughts like little bugs, crawling in and out of my head," Jack said, brushing past Kara as though she wasn't there, pausing only to find a direction. She hadn't been in the captain's cabin before, but she seemed desperate, distracted. "I can't stop 'em."

"Take your time, Jack," Kara said, moving to her desk, to start a cup of tea. It was just after two in the morning, and she'd been asleep when the rogue biotic had arrived at her door. "I'm listening."

"Your pal, the Illusive Man—"

"His name is Jack Harper," Kara interrupted. They weren't pals, either, as neither of them trusted the other.

"Yeah," Jack muttered, pacing lightly passed the empty fish tank. If her resurrection had nearly bankrupted the terrorist organization, Kara wondered that they spent so much excess money filling the _Normandy_ with useless luxuries. "I don't know him, but Cerberus raised me. The first thing I remember is my cell door in a Cerberus base. They did experiments, drugged me, tortured me. Whatever chance I had to be normal, they stole it by trying to turn me into some sort of super-biotic."

Kara shrugged. "None of us on this ship are _normal_, Jack," she said softly. The young biotic didn't respond. "Do you know what they were trying to do?"

"Something about pain breaking down mental barriers, and how it might clear the way for more biotic power."

They needed only to ask the Asari to realize how wrong that theory was; biotics required discipline and control, while torture damaged both. Even if they did succeed in adding to an individual's raw strength, the loss of focus would, in all but the most extreme cases, counteract any gains. Jack was a perfect example, outclassing Kara's abilities, but completely reliant on power, even when finesse would serve better. "That's no justification for what they did to you."

"Well fuck," Jack sneered. "That makes it all better."

There was her defensiveness, again. Kara sighed. "You're letting them define you, Jack. Not just Cerberus, but all the people who hurt you."

"You're full of shit, Shepard," Jack snapped. "I'm gonna fucking kill them all, starting with those fuckers that experimented on me. Let 'em define _that_."

Kara poured steaming water over a measure of green tea, breathing in the bitter scent. The biotic was hardly disproving her point, but that was a discussion to continue later. "I assume you found something in Cerberus' records."

"I found the place where they tortured and drugged me, Shepard. I wanna go there, and I want to plant a big fucking bomb. And I wanna watch from orbit when it goes."

"Alright," Kara nodded. Jack might find it cathartic, but they were unlikely to find anything to contradict Harper's insistence that he hadn't known about the program. He would have had the site cleaned up, and any evidence left behind would be altered to confirm his arguments, before he allowed Jack to find documents leading her to it. "Tell me where it is, and we'll go there."

"The Teltin facility, on Pragia," Jack replied, turning immediately for the door. She paused, uncharacteristically. "Hey, uh, thanks, Shepard."

"Hold on, Jack," Kara said, smiling softly. "You woke me, so you may as well stay for a cup of tea."

The rogue biotic shuddered. "Nah, I hate caffeine. I get all anxious, start climbing the walls." She did that anyway, but at least she hadn't rejected the offer with her usual angry insults.

"I can find something more to your tastes," Kara replied. "A Thessian blend, perhaps?"

Jack almost looked tempted, but then her usual sneer reasserted itself. "I said no, Shepard. Don't push me."

Kara held her hands, palm outward. "As you like," she said. It was just as well—she wanted to have a look at Cerberus' files on Pragia for herself, and the younger woman might be more open to talking when they were done there. "Goodnight, Jack."

* * *

Jack was replaying the _Normandy_'s footage of the explosion, when Kara arrived. The holographic display of the pad glowed brightly from the eezo detonation, wiping out the overgrown remains of the research facility. She didn't know if the young woman had found what she needed there or not, but all the physical evidence had suggested that Harper didn't know the truth about the site's methods. She didn't believe it.

"Oh, Shepard." Jack's face snapped back into its usual mask, as Kara approached, hiding an unexpected look of uncertainty and confusion. "What do you want now?"

"I wondered if you'd like to talk," Kara said, sitting on the edge of the biotic's cot. Almost a day had passed since they left Pragia, without her ever leaving the dimly lit storage space.

"Why did I let him go, Shepard?" Jack asked. They had found another one of Teltin's subjects there, plotting impotently to reopen the facility, and she had almost killed him. "I hated those kids as much as the guards, you know, but he was… as messed up as I am, I guess. Fuck. Why'd you even take me back there?"

"Because you asked me to," Kara replied softly.

Jack groaned. "Shit. I almost believe that you mean that, but I bet you figured it'd do me good or something. I don't know about that, though."

"You didn't find what you expected?"

"I don't know. I never thought of the other kids as victims, before. Were they really attacking me, the day I escaped, or were they as terrified as I was? I just don't know."

Kara shrugged. "Maybe both. I'm sure they were terrified, and scared kids act on instinct. Just like you did."

"One thing's for sure, Shepard. I'm fucking glad that place is gone. I just wish we could have left Miranda there."

"I understand," Kara said, laughing softly. In many ways, she was the member of the crew which Kara trusted the least, blind in her devotion. "Think about this, though; the messages we found down there weren't meant for us. They were for her. We don't trust Harper, but she does, and he's desperate to keep her."

Jack stared at her. "You're fucking kidding."

"Why?" Kara asked. "Her upbringing was privileged, but she was also a victim of her father's designs. She's never really escaped them."

"Shit," Jack snorted. "I thought Kelly was the ship's psychiatrist."

"No, just the captain. I don't have the luxury of keeping to myself."

"Is that why you won't stop fucking pestering me?" the biotic demanded, suddenly angry again. "I don't want to talk about my fucking feelings."

Time for her to go, Kara decided, pushing to her feet. Jack had plenty of things to think about, certainly. "As you like."

* * *

Thanks for reading. If you're enjoying this story, or just want to point out what I'm doing wrong, feel free to leave a review.


	6. Reunions

A trio of story bites, this week, featuring the VSes and Liara. They are each independent, a complete story, free of all interconnectedness, which should explain a certain comment about Ashley in bite three.

* * *

CHAPTER SIX  
_Reunions_

"I though you were dead, Shepard," Ashley Williams breathed. Her expression was… conflicted, Kara supposed. Everyone who had served under her during the hunt for Saren had responded to her reappearance with some uncertainty, and not without reason. "We all did. Joker saw you get spaced."

"It's good to see you, Ash," Kara smiled, reaching out to brush dirt from the rank insignia on the marine's color. "Congratulations on the promotion, Lieutenant."

Ashley turned away. "They said you put in the paperwork before… before…" she swore softly. "I know you never trusted me like you did Kaidan, or Liara, but damn it, I would have followed you anywhere, and now you turn up out of nowhere, after two years. Couldn't you even let me know you were alive?"

"It wasn't by choice," Kara said, gently turning Williams around with a hand on her arm. "And I did trust you, with my life. I don't know what happened after I lost consciousness, but I woke up in a Cerberus lab—"

Shaking Kara's hand of angrily, the marine backed away. "Shit. I can't believe the reports were right." So she had heard them too. Odd, as that was just the sort of rumor the Alliance would have suppressed, unless her presence on Horizon—a distant, unaffiliated human colony—had some connection to them. "You too, Garrus?"

"I'm working for the Captain," Garrus grunted. "I thought you trusted her?"

"So did I, but we all saw what Cerberus did to Kahoku. Some things you just don't forgive."

Kara couldn't agree more, and she wondered again why she had agreed to accept Harper's aid. "What's the Alliance even doing here, Ash?"

"We had intel saying that Cerberus was behind our missing colonies, including a tip that this one could be the next to get hit. The rumor was that you were involved somehow, which is why they sent me. Rumors that you were working for the enemy."

"You can't really believe that," Kara said softly, closing the gap between them again. "Ash…"

"I didn't want to," Williams sighed, lowering her face, "but here you are."

Kara put her hand on the marine's shoulder again. "Remember back on the _Normandy_, when I had to order you to work with Garrus? You thought that he couldn't be trusted. 'Turians look out for Turians'."

Williams laughed. "I was a fool, wasn't I? I was so sure that humanity had to do for itself, I wanted to believe he'd betray us, Wrex and Tali, too." She raised her head, meeting Kara's green eyes with her brown ones. "Am I being a fool again?"

"No," Kara said. "Harper wanted to manipulate you, but you know me. I've accepted his help, because the Alliance and the Council both refused, but I don't work for him. I'm still the same person you followed two years ago."

A hint of a smile turned Ashley's lips. "It _is_ good to see you again, Kara." That was a good sign—it had been until those final days before Ilos that she had finally broken down, and accepted her captain's preferred informality. "I still want to know why you never contacted me, though."

"I really did die," Kara sighed. Even if it weren't fully true, she remembered it; null gravity and starscapes still made her feel violently ill, and she doubted that would ever completely go away. "Or maybe Cerberus just kept me in storage until they needed me. Either way, I only woke up a month ago, and Anderson wouldn't tell me where you were."

"Yeah, okay," Williams said. "What is it you need me to do?"

* * *

"I thought you were dead, Commander," Kaiden Alenko said softly. His dark eyes were studying her intently, as though he were looking for something. He seemed cautiously glad to see her, but even that was displayed uncomfortably in the concerned crease of his brows. "We all did."

"Commander Alenko," Kara smiled, offering her hand. "It's good to see you again."

"That's all you have to say, sir?" he asked, grasping her hand firmly. "I'm glad to find you alive, but it's been two years. Why didn't you try and contact me? Or you, Garrus, when you found out?"

"She was dead, Alenko," the Turian replied. "Joker saw her get spaced, remember?"

Kara shivered a little at the memory, and took a deep, calming breath. She was having some difficulty adjusting to being alive again, and Kaiden, like Garrus, could provide something of an anchor. A solidity that she needed, to combat the uncertainies of resurrection.

"So, who…"

"Cerberus," Kara said softly. She knew he'd react badly, just as she had done when she'd heard their name again.

"Shit," he swore, taking a step backwards, his expression turning cold. "You're with them now? I can't believe the reports about you were right."

"More reports, Shepard?" Garrus growled. "Harper, again?"

He did seem determined to keep her isolated, as if it would keep her under his control. "What did they say, Kaiden?"

"That Cerberus might be behind the missing human colonies, and that you were working for them. We got a tip that Horizon might be next."

"So they sent you, to try to stop me," Kara sighed. "You can see that I came to save the colony, at least."

Kaiden shrugged, crossing his arms across his chest. "So what. You're still working for the enemy. After seeing those experiments we interrupted, Commander, how could you? You can't seriously trust them."

"I don't—"

"Then turn yourself in. Whatever you're up to, Cerberus is just using you."

"Kaiden, I already went to the Council," Kara snapped. "I asked them to help me stop these attacks, and they refused. Anderson wouldn't even tell me where you were posted. I thought you knew me better than that."

"So did I," the biotic marine replied. "You were always so sure that we had to work together, Turians, Asari… Krogan. What was that speech you gave me after Chief Williams died on Virmire? That Salarian lives were every bit as valuable as humans, and that your only regret was not saving everyone?"

She remembered, and she stood by her decision. "I'm still that person, Kaiden. Harper wants to keep us apart, but I need you to trust me."

Alenko took a step closer, studying her face intently again. She met his gaze with firm conviction. "Tell me you're not working for Cerberus."

"Harper has provided me with a few leads on the abductions," Kara said, "but I don't answer to him. If I can stop the Collectors and Cerberus at the same time, you know I will."

Kaiden sighed. "I followed you into hell once before, Commander… Kara… but I have my own duties, now. I can't just abandon them. I'll see what I can do about getting you more support, though."

Kara smiled. "Thank you."

* * *

"Kara." There was something cautious, even reluctant, about the Asari's greeting that struck her hard. It had been two weeks since they last made love, in Kara's recollection, but for Liara it had been two years, and that was a difficult thing to reconcile.

Kara moved closer, suppressing the urge to press her lover… former lover… with a desperate kiss. So much had changed, without her even being aware of it; Ashley's rejection of her on Virmire, Anderson's indifferent, and the Council's unwillingness to offer more than token support—she needed to feel that something of her old life had survived. "Liara, I…"

"It's okay," the Asari breathed, taking her hand. Not kissing her, but she got to feel warm skin, and some of their old connection. It wasn't lost, then. "My sources said you were alive, but I never believed… I couldn't. It's been two years, Kara. I had to let you go."

Kara nodded, leaving her face lowered, her eyes fixed on the warm blue of Liara's formal clothes. If they needed time, she would find the strength to give it. "You… you have sources, now?"

"Sources. Contacts." Liara let go of her hand, turning away. She closed her eyes, and listened to the sound of her lover's voice; it had grown harder, less innocent, but it was still her. "Even a little hired muscle. I've been working as an information broker. It's paid the bills since you…"

Liara paused, her breathing shallow. Even if she had let go, because she had to, Kara's presence must have resurrected some of her old feelings. "Now you're back, hunting the Collectors with Cerberus."

"Then you know why I'm here," Kara said softly. All of the many reasons.

"I can't, Kara. I'm sorry. I have commitments here. Things I need to take care of."

Kara touched the Asari's shoulder softly, when she didn't continue. "I know it's been two years for you, Liara. I know I hurt you, but… I need to you to talk to me."

Liara turned abruptly, her eyes dark with pain. "Talk, or make love?"

"Talk," Kara said, though it wasn't what she was thinking. Liara's hands on her skin would make her feel alive again, not cold and dead and distant, as though Cerberus had animated her corpse, memories and all, but had left her soul behind. And she didn't even believe in such things. "Liara, I died, and there's no one to talk to about it. I can't do this alone."

"There must be someone else…"

"My crew is Cerberus, Liara. Would you trust them?"

Liara shifted in place, her face filled with distress. Was that guilt that made her look away?

"What's wrong?" Kara whispered, brushing the back of her hand against the Asari's cheek. Liara caught it, and held it there, her eyes closed.

"I…" she stammered, her voice barely audible. "I couldn't let you go."

Cautiously, Kara put her arm around the Asari's waist, pulling her in. "You don't have to."

Abruptly, Liara pushed away, angrily wiping moisture from her eyes. "You don't understand."

"I want to, Liara," Kara said. "I want you back."

"I gave you to Cerberus," Liara snapped.

Kara's breath caught in her throat, as silence fell around them. She half-stumbled to the couch, and sank onto it. Against the advice of her crew, and the Council, she had trusted Liara; welcomed her onto the _Normandy_'s crew. Let her in, like she hadn't done with anyone since before Elysium. It hadn't been easy, but she had needed someone to talk to, and their relationship had grown from there. To think that her lover had handed her over to a brutal, bigoted terrorist group for any reason…

"They said they could bring you back," Liara breathed. The flash of anger was gone, and now she just looked small. Terrified and alone, just as Kara was feeling. "I couldn't let you go."

"You…" betrayed me? She had been dead, beyond any concern for the fate of her body. Whatever Kara Shepard was, an accident of biochemistry, or an immortal soul, had been gone. Now she was back, and _that_ mattered. She had never thanked Miranda for that, for two years and billions of credits.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Liara," Kara said softly.

Liara seemed to go limp, letting out a long-held breath. Had she even really _believed_ what Cerberus claimed, or had it all been wishful thinking? Asari were typically more practical with their relationships. She offered a shy smile. "Really?"

"Yes," Kara smiled, holding out her hand. "Really."

Liara laughed. The relief in her voice washed over Kara, as the Asari took her hand and sat beside her. "Are you serious about this… about us?"

"The thought of you has kept me going, ever since I woke up. Yes, I'm serious."

"The irony is," Liara whispered, gently stroking Kara's hand, "I've dreamed of this moment for two years, but I'm so afraid of losing you…"

Kara dared a kiss, gentle, teasing the Asari with her tongue. Liara opened for her, devoured her, and she quickly found herself on her back, with her lover lying on top.

"You taste as good as I remember," Liara breathed.

Kara laughed, and traced the curves of Liara's face with her fingers. She felt a little of her old warmth, for the first time since her resurrection. "I can't promise you eternity, Liara, but aren't I worth that risk?"

"Yes." The desire in Liara's soft voice made her ache, more than the Asari's slender fingers, sliding under her shirt. "I want you."

Kara drew the Asari's hand away from her skin. She couldn't deny her own desire, but she didn't want it like this. She wanted laughter and idle conversation, drawing out Liara's beautiful soft smile, and gentle kisses. She wanted to be seduced, to fall into a real bed, and have slow but passionate sex. This was neither a first time, nor a reunion, but maybe, confusingly, both, and most of all she wanted it to be _right_, because she longed for the moment after as much as the climax; lying in the dark, with her lover's arms holding her close, listening to her slow Asari heartbeat. "Have dinner with me tonight," she whispered. "We can see how things go from there."

Liara closed her eyes, and drew a deep breath. "I'd like that," she agreed.

* * *

The other project I've been working on for Shooting Canon is the Geth/Quarian arc, beginning in ME2, and it hasn't really been going anywhere. It keeps devolving into Q&A sessions. I may have to sit down and devote a week or two to the problem, but at present I'd rather finish Antiheroine.

Anyway, if you're enjoying this, or just have something to say, please leave a review.


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